When it was Hess's, the imposing retailer at 9th Street and Hamilton Mall was the crown jewel in Allentown's glittering business district, a distinctive department store known around the world for sophistication and savvy marketing.

And although the store that closed forever at 5:30 p.m., Jan. 15, was known at the end by a different name, it is as Hess's that it will live in the memories of the thousands who shopped and browsed there, developed a sense of style with the help of Hess's gala fashion shows, and celebrated special occasions with meals in the Patio.

It is as Hess's or Hess Bros. that it will live in the memories of the thousands of people who worked there, in jobs that disappeared with the closing of the store.

It is the death of Hess's, much more than the closure of a branch of a struggling department store chain based elsewhere, that is being mourned in the Lehigh Valley and beyond.

The Nov. 9 announcement that the stately store would close -- a year short of its centennial -- undammed a flood of reminiscence, along with plenty of second-guessing about what could have been done to keep alive the store that occupied the northeast corner of its intersection since 1897.

In its final days crowds jammed the store. Some were on a search for bargains: everything left in the store was being sold for half its lowest markdown price.

But others just wanted to savor one last piece of strawberry pie in The Patio -- perhaps remembering the glory days when models strutted through the lunchtime crowd, showing off the latest fashions.

Still others visited just to take a final, lingering look at the crystal chandeliers and mirrored wars that once reflected throngs of well-dressed shoppers and brilliant arrays of merchandise.

Some people observed, a little bitterly, that if all the people who visited at the end had regularly shopped at the store in the past few years, it might have continued to show a profit and therefore would have remained viable.

Instead, Bon-Ton, the company that bought the Hess's chain in 1994, estimated that the downtown store would lose about $5,000 per day, or $2 million this year, if it remained open.

Service organizations like the Lions Club scheduled farewell lunches in the Patio. But for Lion Robert Ott, whose first job out of high school 60 years ago was as an $11.50-a-week Hess's stockboy, the visit was heartbreaking. Walking through the nearly empty store, he said, was "like going into a tomb, almost.

"You can't help but get a tear in the eye and a lump in the throat," Ott said in the week before the closing.

Still, the sorrow was tempered by recollections of Hess's and its glory days. "I think of Max Hess (Jr.) and Allentown when it was like a carnival. It was show business. Maybe we missed the boat downtown; we didn't have more show business," Ott pondered. "But nothing lasts forever, I guess."

Max Jr.'s marketing ploys were legendary: Ott recalled picking up a Dallas paper when he was in that Texas city on business for Dorney Park, where he worked for years. There, figuratively thumbing its nose at Dallas luxury retail giant Neiman-Marcus, was a full-page ad for Hess's.

Hess's tradition of customer service was also recalled by Ott. A self-confessed "lousy shopper," Ott said he would go to the store in its waning days and search out an older sales clerk for the help he needed.

Former Hess's owner Philip Berman, a philanthropist now known for his support of the visual arts, admitted to tears in November when closing plans were announced. But in January he was more philosophical about the demise of the emporium founded by merchant brothers Charles and Max Hess Sr. and guided for 35 years by the flamboyant Max Jr.

"It's part of an era that has come and gone," said Berman, who despite hope for some reuse of the building expressed little optimism that it will ever be a classic downtown department store.

It's only in major metropolitan areas extensively inhabited by people of substantial means -- like New York, London, Paris and San Francisco -- that such stores can readily prosper Berman said.

For Anne Sinkovits, who works for the Lehigh County commissioners, Hess's had been a part of her daily lunch routine since she started working downtown in the mid-1960s. "I take my walk, go to Hess Brothers and browse around. Sometimes I buy, sometimes I just look. It's been a lifesaver over the years. I could do my birthday shopping, anniversary shopping, my Mother's Day shopping."

Even though she lives in Whitehall Township, home to the myriad of malls and strip centers that some say doomed the downtown store, Sinkovits said Hess's was "my main source of everything."

And although her 5-year-old granddaughter Will never know the thrill of spritzing herself with testers at Hess's perfume counters, trying lipsticks or buying an elegant gown for her first prom, she'll have a memento of the world-famous Patio restaurant. Last summers Sinkovits took the little girl to the Patio and had a picture taken as she enjoyed a hamburger served in a toy stove and the ice cream served in a tiny refrigerator, just as her father, Sinkovits' son, did years before.